Forever brother, hail and farewell
by the mermaid of zennor
Summary: A possible ending for the Battle of the Five Armies. Sort of a companion to my previous story 'History Lesson.'


_So, I suppose this is a prequel to my previous story, or I suppose it could also be a sequel of sorts. There's no Tauriel, because I do ship Kíliel but when it comes to the death scene it has to be brotherly Fíli/Kíli for me. And as you might've noticed, I definitely ship Fíli/surviving BOTFA! :p_

_I still don't own anything._

_The title is from the last line of Catullus poem 101, which is an elegy for his dead brother__. It's at the bottom if you wanted to read it. :)_

_(I am considering maybe writing something multi chapter, the current idea I have is a Kíliel story roughly based on Romeo and Juliet, would anyone want to read that?)_

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><p>Kíli had survived so many dangers on this quest, Fíli could not comprehend that has was really gone, that he would not hear his brother's voice again, never laugh with him over the smallest of things, nor chide him for his recklessness as an older brother ought. Reckless, he thought, that was Kíli to the last.<p>

They had watched Thorin fall at the pale orc's hand, frozen in disbelief. Kíli, who was nearby, had recovered quickly, dropping his bow in horror and charging, unarmed, towards Azog. Fíli could only watch from his position higher up the slopes of Erebor, unable to go to his aid. As reckless actions went, Fíli thought, this had to be Kíli's worst. He saw Kíli take up the elven sword Orcrist from his uncle's unmoving hand, and turn to face Azog, fury etched into his face. They fought, Kíli swinging Orcrist so wildly that Fíli would have feared being hit had he been fighting alongside his brother. It seemed to Fíli that the fight lasted forever.

Yet it ended swiftly.

Azog, clearly winded by his previous fight with Thorin, dropped his guard long enough for Kíli to bury Orcrist deep into the orc's chest. Fíli saw his brother smile, not the happy, carefree smile he knew, but one distorted by grief and rage. He stepped back, beginning to turn away from his finally defeated enemy.

And that was when it happened.

Fíli could see it all so clearly, it was as if he had known what was going to happen all along.

Azog, mortally wounded, but not yet dead, lifted his great mace for a final swing. It caught Kíli square in the chest, sending him flying backwards to land in a crumpled heap on the ground. Fíli's eyes widened in horror.

No, this could not have happened, surely his brother would get back up, he always did, no matter what ridiculous plan he had tried to execute. He would want to find Fíli, to tell him that he, Kíli, had defeated Azog the Defiler, though he was the youngest on the quest and little more than a dwarfling, that he had always known he was a great warrior, that no one would question his worth as one of Thorin's heirs.

Fíli fought blindly through the rabble of orcs and goblins around him, swinging his twin blades furiously, not caring what he hit, all the time driving through the crowd towards his brother, he had to reach Kíli and then everything would be alright again, he was certain of it.

He was wrong.

He could see straight away when he reached Kíli that he was dead, for he lay sprawled in the mire of mud and blood, his neck bent at an impossible angle. Fíli knelt beside him, gently lifting his brother's upper body to rest across his lap. Kíli's hair was matted with mud and hung across his face, and Fíli found himself combing it as best he could, braiding a small section at the front and fastening it with a clasp from his own hair, for his brother had earned this, he had proved his worth as a warrior, but at too high a price. Kíli's face was peaceful, maybe this meant he had known nothing of his death, Fíli hoped. He leant forward to rest his forehead against Kíli's in a final goodbye, tears leaking slowly from under his closed eyelids.

That was how the company found them, an island of apparent peace amongst the corpses and debris scattered across the plain.

Deep in the heart of the mountain they buried him, beside his uncle, his bow recovered from the battlefield and placed by his side. "Here lies Kíli, son of Dis, slayer of Azog the Defiler" read the inscription on his tomb. Now king, Fíli stood before the tomb, his face a mask, betraying no emotion to the assembled crowd. In his heart he yearned to join his brother, but he knew Kíli would want him to rule Erebor and rebuild the kingdom, for they would be reunited one day. Dwarves were murmuring around him and Balin was reading some sort of eulogy, yet Fíli could not hear what he was saying, for there were no words for this.

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><p><em>Catullus 101:<em>

_**multas per gentes et multa per aequora vectus** (Carried through many nations and over many seas)_

_**advenio has miseras frater ad inferias** (I arrive, brother, for these wretched funeral rites)_

_**ut te postremo donarem munere mortis** (so that I might present you with the last tribute of death)_

_**et mutam nequiquam alloquerer cinerem** (and speak in vain to silent ash)_

_**quandoquidem fortuna mihi tete abstulit ipsum** (since Fortune has carried you away from me)_

_**heu miser indigne frater adempte mihi** (Alas, poor brother, unfairly taken away from me)_

_**nunc tamen interea haec prisco quae more parentum** (now in the meantime, nevertheless, these things which in the ancient custom of ancestors)_

_**tradita sunt tristi munere ad inferias** (are handed over as a sad tribute to the rites)_

_**accipe fraterno multum manantia fletu** (receive, dripping much with brotherly weeping)_

_**atque in perpetuum frater ave atque vale** (and forever, brother, hail and farewell)_


End file.
